“Hey,” she says flatly.
“Hey.”
“What’s going on with you and Layken?” she asks. She looks at me like she deserves an answer.
“Kiersten? Hasn’t your mother ever told you it’s rude to be nosey?”
She shakes her head. “No, she says the only way to get the facts is to ask the questions.”
“Well, you can ask as many questions as you want. That doesn’t mean I have to answer them.”
“Fine,” she says, standing up. “I’ll go ask Layken.”
“Good luck getting her to open the door.”
Kiersten leaves and I jump up and go to the window. She gets halfway down my driveway and turns around and heads back to my front door. When she passes my window, she looks at me with pity and slowly shakes her head. She opens the front door and comes back inside. “Is there anything in particular you want me to ask her? I can report back to you.”
I love this kid. “Yeah, good idea Kiersten.” I think for a second. “I don’t know, just gauge her mood. Is she crying? Is she mad? Act like you don’t know we’re fighting and ask her about me…see what she says.”
Kiersten nods and starts to shut the front door.
“Wait, one more thing. I want to know what she’s wearing, too.”
Kiersten eyes me curiously.
“Just her shirt. I want to know what shirt she has on.”
I wait by the window and watch as Kiersten walks across the street and knocks on her door. Why does she knock on Lake’s door and not mine? The door opens almost immediately. Kiersten walks inside and the door shuts behind her.
I pace the living room and drink another cup of coffee, watching out the window, waiting for Kiersten to emerge from Lake's house. A half hour goes by and the front door finally opens. Kiersten walks outside and turns left and heads to her house rather than walking back across the street.
I give her a while. Maybe she had to go home to eat lunch or something. After an hour passes, I can’t wait any longer. I make a beeline to Kiersten’s house and knock on the door.
“Hey Will, come on in,” Sherry says. She steps aside and I make my way into the living room. Kiersten’s watching T.V. Before I bombard Kiersten, I turn to Sherry.
“Last night…I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude.”
“Oh, stop it. I was just being nosey,” she says. “You want something to drink?”
“No, I’m good. I just need to talk to Kiersten.”
Kiersten looks over at me from the couch and gives me a dirty look. “You’re a jerk, Will.” she says.
I guess Lake’s not over it. I sit down beside her on the couch and put my hands between my knees. “Will you at least tell me what she said?” This is so pathetic. I’m entrusting my relationship to an eleven-year-old.
“Are you sure you want to know? I should probably warn you, I have an excellent memory. Mom says I’ve been able to quote entire conversations verbatim since I was three years old.”
“Positive. I want to know everything she said.”
Kiersten sighs and pulls her legs up on the couch and turns toward me. “She thinks you’re a jerk. She said you were an asshole, a dickhead, a bas-”
“A bastard. I know, I get it. What else did she say?”
“She didn’t tell me why she was mad at you…but she’s really mad at you. I don’t know what you did, but she’s at her house right now cleaning like a psycho! When she opened the door, she had hundreds of index cards all over the living room floor. It looked like recipes or something.”
“Oh god, she’s alphabetizing,” I say. This is worse than I thought. “Kiersten, she won’t answer the door if I go over there. Will you knock so she’ll open the door? I really need to talk to her.”
Kiersten presses her lips together as she thinks about my question. “You’re asking me to trick her? To basically lie to her?”
I shrug my shoulders and nod.
“Let me get my coat.”
I stand up and Sherry comes from the kitchen and holds out her hand. I hold open my palm and she puts something in it and folds my fingers over it. “If it doesn’t go the way you’re hoping, take these with some water. You look like shit.”
She can see the hesitation on my face and she smiles. “Don’t worry, I made them. They’re completely legal.”
***
I don’t really have a plan of attack. I’m hiding against the wall in front of Lake's house when Kiersten knocks. My heart is beating so fast, I feel like I’m about to commit a robbery or something. I take a deep breath when I hear the door open. Kiersten steps aside and I brush past her and slip inside Lake’s house faster than she can realize what happened.
“Get out, Will,” she says as she holds the door open and points outside.
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me,” I say. I back further into the living room.
“Get out! Get out, get out, get out!”
I do what any sane male would do in this situation; I run down the hallway and lock myself in her bedroom. I realize I still don’t have a plan. I don’t know how I can talk to her if I’m locked up in her bedroom. But at least she can’t kick me out of her house now. I’ll stay here all day if I have to.
I hear the front door slam and within seconds she’s standing outside the bedroom door. I wait for her to say something or to yell at me, but she doesn’t. I watch the shadow of her feet disappear as she walks away.
What now? If I open the door, she’ll just try to kick me out again. Why didn’t I formulate a better plan? I’m an idiot. I’m a freaking idiot! Think, Will. Think.
I see the shadow of her feet reappear and she pauses in front of her bedroom door again.
“Will? Open the door. I’ll talk to you.”
She doesn’t sound angry. My idiotic plan actually worked? I unlock the door to her bedroom and as soon as I open it all the way, I’m completely drenched in water. She just threw water on me! She threw an entire pitcher of water in my face!
“Oh,” she says. “You look a little wet, Will. You better go home and change before you get sick.” She calmly turns and walks away.
I’m an idiot, and she’s not ready to give in. I make the walk of shame down her hallway, out the front door and across the street to my house. It’s freezing. She didn’t even bother warming the water before she threw it at me. I take off my clothes and get in the shower. A hot shower this time.
***
The shower didn’t help at all. I feel like complete crap. Five cups of coffee and no sleep on an empty stomach doesn’t make for a great start to the day. It’s almost two o’clock in the afternoon. If I wasn’t such an idiot, I wonder what Lake and I would be doing right now. Who am I kidding? I know what we’d be doing right now. My reflection on our turn of events over the past twenty-four hours causes my head to hurt. I pick my pants up off the bedroom floor and reach inside the pocket, pulling out whatever it is that Sherry gave me. I walk to the kitchen and down the medicine with an entire glass of water before going to the couch.
***
It’s dark when I wake up. I don’t even remember lying down. I sit up on the couch and spot a note on the coffee table. I reach over and snatch it up and begin to read it. My heart sinks when I realize it’s not from Lake.
Will,
I was going to warn you not to drive after you take the medicine…but I see you already took it. So, never mind.
~Sherry
P.S. I had a talk with Layken today. You really should apologize, you know. That was kind of a dick move on your part. If you need any more medicine, you know where I live.
I toss the letter back onto the table. Was the smiley face really necessary? I wince as the cramps in my stomach intensify. When was the last time I ate something? I honestly can’t remember. I open the refrigerator and see the basagna from the night b
efore. Unfortunately, it’s now the perfect night for basagna. I cut a section out and throw it on a plate and toss it in the microwave. As I’m filling a glass with soda, the front door swings open.
She’s walking across the room, heading for the bookshelf. I dart into the living room just when she reaches it. She’s still ignoring me. Rather than reaching in for a single star this time, she grabs the entire vase off the bookshelf.
She is not taking this vase with her. If she takes the vase with her, she won’t have a reason to come back. I grab the vase out of her hands, but she won’t let go. We tug back and forth, but I’m not letting go. I’m not letting her take it. She finally releases her grasp and glares at me.
“Give it to me, Will. My mother made it and I want to take it home with me.”
I walk back to the kitchen with the vase…she follows me. I set it in the corner of the countertop against the wall and I turn around and place my arms on either side of it so she can’t reach it.
“Your mother made it for both of us. I know you, Lake. If you take this home you’ll open every single one of them tonight. You’ll be opening stars all night just like you carve pumpkins.”
She throws her hands up in the air and groans. “Stop saying that! Please! I don’t carve pumpkins anymore!”
I can’t believe she thinks she doesn’t carve pumpkins anymore. “You don’t? Really? You’re carving them right now, Lake. It’s been twenty-four hours and you still won’t let me talk to you about it.”
She wads her hands into fists and stomps her feet in frustration. “Ugh!” she yells. She looks like she wants to hit something. Or someone. God, she’s so beautiful.
“Stop looking at me like that!” she snaps.
“Like what?”
“You’ve got that look in your eyes again. Just stop!”
I have absolutely no idea what look she’s talking about, but I divert my attention away from her. I don’t want to do anything to piss her off even more.
“Have you eaten anything today?” I ask. I take my plate out of the microwave but she doesn’t answer me. She just stands in the kitchen with her arms folded across her chest. I pull the pan of basagna out of the refrigerator and fold back the tinfoil.
“You’re eating basagna? How appropriate,” she says.
It’s not the conversation I was hoping we would have, but it’s conversation nonetheless. I cut another square of basagna and put it in the microwave. Neither of us says anything while it cooks. She just stands there, staring at the floor. I just stand here, staring at the microwave. When it’s finished cooking, I put our plates on the bar and make another drink. We both sit down and eat in silence. Very uncomfortable silence.
When we’re finished, I clear off the bar and sit across from her so I can see her better. I wait for her to speak first. She has her elbows resting on the bar while she stares down at her nails, picking at them, attempting to look uninterested.
“So, talk,” she says evenly, without looking up at me.
I reach my hands across the bar to touch hers, but she pulls them away and leans back in her chair. I don’t like the barrier of the bar between us so I get up and walk to the living room.
“Come sit,” I say to her. She walks to the living room and sits on the same couch as me, but at the opposite end. I rub my face with my hands, trying to sort out just how I’m going to make her forgive me. I pull my leg up on the couch and turn to face her.
“Lake, I love you. The last thing in the world I want to do is hurt you. You know that.”
“Well, congratulations,” she says. “You just succeeded with accomplishing the last thing in the world you wanted to do.”
I lean my head back into the couch. This is going to be harder than I thought. She’s tough to crack.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you she was in my class. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Worry about what, Will? Is her being in class with you something I should worry about? Because if it’s nothing like you say it is, why would I need to worry?”
Jesus! Am I picking the worst ways in the world to apologize or is she just that good? If she ever stops being mad at me, I’ll tell her I think she’s finally figured out her major; pre-law.
“Lake, I don’t feel that way about Vaughn anymore. I was planning to tell you about her being in my class next week…I just didn’t want to bring it up before our getaway.”
“Oh. So you wanted to make sure you got laid before you pissed me off. Good plan,” she says sarcastically.
I slap my forehead with my hand and close my eyes. There isn’t a fight this girl couldn’t win.
“Think about it, Will. Put yourself in my shoes. Let’s say I had sex with a guy before I met you. Then right when you and me were about to have sex, you walk into my bedroom and I’m hugging this guy. Then you see me kiss him…on the neck. Your favorite place to be kissed by me. Then you find out I’ve been seeing this guy every other day for weeks and I’ve kept it a secret. What would you do? Huh?”
She's not picking at her nails anymore. She's glaring right at me, waiting on my response.
“Well,” I say. “I would allow you the chance to explain without interrupting you every five seconds.”
She flips me off and jerks herself off the couch and starts toward the front door. I grab her arm when she passes me and I pull her back down onto the couch. When she falls into the spot next to me, I wrap my arms around her and press her head into my chest. I try not to let her go. I don’t want her to go. “Lake, please. Just give me a chance, I’ll tell you everything. Don’t leave again.”
She doesn’t struggle to pull away. She doesn’t fight me, either. She relaxes into my chest and lets me hold her while I talk.
“I didn’t know if you even knew about Vaughn. I know how much you hate talking about past relationships, so I thought it would be worse if I brought it up than if I didn’t. That’s why I didn’t bring it up. Seeing her again meant nothing to me. I didn’t want it to mean anything to you, either.”
I run my fingers through her hair and she sighs, then starts crying into my shirt.
“I want to believe you, Will. I want to believe you so bad. But why was she here last night? If she doesn’t still mean something to you, why were you holding her?”
I kiss her on top of the head. “Lake, I was asking her to leave. She was crying so I hugged her.”
She pulls her face away from my chest and looks up at me, frightened. “She was crying? Why was she crying? Will, does she still love you?”
I sigh. How do I answer that without coming off like a jerk again? Nothing I’m saying right now is helping my cause. Nothing at all.
She sits up and scoots away from me so she can turn towards me as she speaks. “Will, you’re the one that wanted to talk. I want you to tell me everything. I want to know why she was here, what you were doing in your bedroom with her, why you were hugging her, why she was crying-everything.”
I reach over and take her hand but she pulls it back again. “Tell me,” she says.
I try to think of where to begin. I inhale a deep breath and exhale slowly, preparing to be interrupted a million more times.
“She wrote me a note in class the other day and asked if we could talk. She just showed up last night out of the blue. I didn’t let her in, Lake. I was in my bedroom when she got here. I would have never let her in.” I look her in the eyes when I say that because it’s the truth.
“My grandmother wanted her to eat with us and I told her no and said I needed to talk to her. I just wanted her to leave. She started crying and told me she hated how she ended things with me. She said she knew about you and our whole situation with our parents and us raising our brothers. She said I ‘owed it to you’ to find out where my heart really lies, and that maybe I was with you because I felt sorry for you, since I've been in your shoes before. She wanted me to
give her another chance, to see if I was with you for the right reasons. I told her no. I told her I loved you, Lake. I asked her to leave and she started crying again so I hugged her. I felt like I was being a jerk, that’s the only reason why I hugged her.”
I watch for some sort of reaction to my confession, but she just looks down at her lap so that I'm unable to see her face. “Why did you kiss her on the forehead?” she asks softly.
I sigh and stroke her cheek with the back of my hand, pulling her focus back in my direction. “Lake, I don’t know. You’ve got to understand that I dated her for over two years. There are some things that, no matter how long it’s been, it’s just habit. It didn’t mean anything, it was just habit. I was just consoling her.”
Lake lies back onto the arm of the couch and stares up at the ceiling while she thinks. All I can do is just let her think. I’ve told her everything. I watch her as she lies there, not saying a word. I want so bad to lie down beside her and hold her. It’s killing me that I can’t.
“Do you think there’s a chance that she’s right?” she asks, still staring at the ceiling.
“Right about what? That she loves me? Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t care. It doesn’t change anything.”
“I don’t mean about that. It’s obvious she still wants to be with you, she said it herself. I mean do you think there’s a chance she could be right about the other thing? About the possibility of you being with me because of our situation? Because you feel sorry for me.”
I spring forward on the couch and climb on top of her and grasp her jaw, pulling her face to mine. “Don’t, Lake. Don’t you dare think that for a second!”
She squeezes her eyes shut and tears slide down over her temples, into her hair. I kiss them. I kiss her face and her tears and her eyes and her cheeks and her lips. I need her to know that it’s not true. I need her to know how much I love her.
“Will, stop,” she says weakly. I can hear her cry being suppressed in her throat; I can see it in her face. She doubts me.
“Baby, no. Don’t believe that. Please don’t believe that.” I press my head into the crevice between her shoulder and her neck. “I love you because of you.”
Point of Retreat (Slammed Series) Page 9